


Coming Home

by matomato, OhFuckMystrade



Series: Holmes-Lestrade Family Stories [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, Emily has puppy eyes, Emily is adorable, Emily is bundle of joy, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff, Greg has a dirty mouth, Greg is Sweet, Greg is a Good Boyfriend, Greg is a Tease, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mycroft easily turn on, Parentlock, Rimming, Smut, jockstrap, unbeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 17:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matomato/pseuds/matomato, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhFuckMystrade/pseuds/OhFuckMystrade
Summary: Mycroft came late to his partner and their daughter. Fluff and smut ensued.





	Coming Home

It has been a long day, back to back meeting and phone conference with incompetent leaders, then the mess that the US President made only making Mycroft’s job even worst. It doesn’t help that it is a week before Christmas and people are trying to push every appointment, projects, meeting to be done before the jolliest time of the year is here. Throughout the day, the politician can only curse inwardly and glare at every incoming mails and paperworks, that demands his immediate attention because no one wants to stack their work so close to Christmas. By the time he is in the car heading home, Mycroft is ready to end the day with a soak in the bath then sleep.

 

The politician hangs his coat and puts away his umbrella before he starts to walk to the kitchen. He glances at the sitting room, finding the lights on and the fireplace actually lits up. He stops and decides that the tea can wait. The sight of his partner laying on the sofa, one arm props under his head as a makeshift pillow and eyes closed, makes the politician can’t hold back a smile. It is a serene picture, especially with how Greg dressed in a green jumper, one that Mycroft had expressed his fondness a few times before, dark chocolate trousers and a pair of Christmas theme socks. A pure dork. 

 

“You are staring.” The deep voice makes the smile on Mycroft’s face grows bigger as he approaches the sofa.

 

“I don’t want to intrude when you are resting.” He answers as he watches the brown eyes he loves so much coming into view followed with a soft smile.

 

“You never will.” The word follows with a shift of position from the Inspector as he offers his hand to pull Mycroft down to him. “Long day?”

 

“Quite, tho I’m more incline of it being tiresome because of the idiocy of few people.” the low chuckled that come from the DCI warmth Mycroft’s chest as he watches how relax his partner is.

 

“Typical day then.” Greg hums as he tugs Mycroft’s hand again when the politician just stands by the sofa. The action makes the younger man raises his brow a bit before realization hits him about what Greg wants him to do. 

 

“Are you sure?”

Along their relationship, the DCI knew what relaxed Mycroft the most. He was a man who always has the whole control over everything in his life and others lives. Nothing and nobody was questioning his power but once the politician stepped through the doorway of their house, their property, their place, Greg knew that Mycroft definitely needs a change.

“Yes, My. Stop questioning that every single time, just comes here…” It is the goofy smile that Greg gives him that finally makes Mycroft takes off his shoes and then carefully climbs the sofa so he can rest on top of Greg’s body. The older man just pulls the auburn down on top of him and wraps his arms around the slender body and tangles their legs together.

 

Fortunately for them, the sofa is big enough to handle two adults. Mycroft sighs once he laid on top of Greg and rubs his nose to the comfortable jumper that the older man is wearing. Mycroft bought this for Greg at Harrods, a gift. He simply thinks that the dark green will make Greg’s brown eyes pop even more. And he was right. And so right now, Mycroft is getting comfortable as he can by snuggling to Greg and be held. “I’m just glad I can come home to this,” Mycroft mumbles after a silence, just the two listening to each other breathing. The remarks make the older man laughs before he gives a kiss on the top of the politician’ crown.

“Really? To an old DCI with a not so fit body like 20 years ago and a weakness for old brandy and beer and cigarettes every now and then which you hate because it’s just Marlboro?” The older man smiles cheekily as he looks down at the politician who just hums.

“You are not that old,” but Greg cuts him off with a little pinch on the bum, “Oh stop that Holmes I am old and you know it. Last time I played soccer in my old team, I was like a turtle so slow. Well...a cute turtle.” Greg never understood the effect he had on others. Especially on the elder Holmes. Greg can simply walk through a room all normal and will attract all admiration from either woman or men. Although Greg doesn’t believe it in anyway, it is like that. The power of a silver fox.

“But enough from me and my old ass,” at the word ‘ass’, Greg’s hand wandered along Mycroft’s back till his buttock and starts to knead slowly, definitely in the mood for some pre-Christmas smut. The wandering hands enough to excite the politician for more. Mycroft never believes he can fall into such human desire but then again every man has their weakness and right now Mycroft is slowly let himself fall to his own. His partner was sensual and seductive. He smelled of musk and mint and a hint of cigarettes and just himself. Being irresistible in the green jumper. Mycroft can’t help but lean up for a kiss. Just a simple kiss. It is a press of his lips to Greg’s. With a promise of something more, especially from how Greg responds to the kiss. ”Waiting about that since 6 fucking hours…” Greg hums in response and slowly sucks the lower thin lip of Mycroft.

 

But just at the moment, the universe decides to stop them from doing anything more than just butt kneading and a slow grinding against each other. There are tiny little footsteps on the upper floor. Only can be heard if you really pay attention to it. Slow and steady steps going down the stairs and after a while a small ‘Dada…’. A voice that comes closer and closer.

“Dada….” This time the voice is louder than before and there’s a hint of a whine in it. Mycroft is the first one to notice it and he pulls back from the kiss much to Greg’s protests but before the DCI can say anything or pull his partner into another kiss the steps stop in the doorway of the sitting room.

From the doorway, Emily can see that her daddies are laying on the sofa on top of each other. In her state of just waking up from a nap the sight just make her cranky. One, because her Daddy G promised to stay with her in her room. He didn’t. Two, her Daddy M already arrived and now snuggling with her other Daddy. Third, she woke up alone in her bedroom. She is the princess of the whole place, should not wake up alone.

“Dadaaaa…” The little girl whines, doesn’t really know how to produce the correct words. Her mind still feeling like pudding after the nap, so she just whines and stomps her tiny feet on the carpet before making her way to the sofa with a huge duck plushie in her hand, dragging behind her, and a wobbling lower lip.

 

Both men now had stopped doing their activities and watch the five years old stomping toward them. It is the most adorable thing but they know not to chuckle or tease her, at least Mycroft knows that. Greg, on the other hand, reaches for her and ruffles the dark brown hair, which was curling on the end making the girl whines even more, “What kind of baby we have here? Thought you are tired and want to sleep till the morning,” he says and even flicks her ear before he slides his thumb over the wobbling lower lip, “It’s late Em’s and you need to go to the Kindergarten in the morning.”

“Don’t wanna…” The girl whines as she drops her plushie to the floor and then tries to climb the sofa where her daddies are laying down, “Wanna snuggle. Move.” She orders her daddies while Mycroft just chuckles seeing her struggling to climb because how small she is and just picks her up as he moves to lay down a bit to Greg’s side.

“Very persistent you are,” Mycroft comments as Emily lays down on top of Greg’s chest but moving closer to her other daddy while mumbling how hard Greg’s chest and belly are, “Not comfy. Dada G hard!” she huffs and pokes the chest while curling up closer to Mycroft and snuggles while Greg sighs and pats her butt, “I planned this different I swear to god. She was super tired when I brought her to bed one hour ago before I lid the fireplace and changed from suit into a domestic outfit just for you,” Greg explains with a little tormenting smile and rubs their daughter’s back, trying to calm her more so she will fall asleep again. Well, that was the plan after all but the reality was a cruel partner. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind ending the night like this.” Mycroft says as he holds Emily close to his chest while he himself, rests his head on your shoulder, “I already feel dejected earlier today that I will only see Emily once she is asleep so this is just blessing.”

 

Truth to be told, Mycroft loves to spend his evening with his little family. It helps him to calm his mind and also let go all the burden of work. So when he got that day’s schedule, he was already feeling tired from the morning as he knew he will only be back when Emily and Greg already asleep. It would be lucky if he can catch Greg to be awake. So right now, to know be greeted with a sleeping Emily and his partner looking all stunning, Mycroft just content and happy.

“You don’t need to. Your working days are busy but this will be better over the next month.” Greg said understanding and slides his free thumb along Mycroft’s jaw watching as the politician leans into it, “I really do hope so. At least I will be able to enjoy proper Christmas week this year with the two of you.”

The smile that Mycroft gives to Greg is something that is very gentle and fond. A smile that is only reserved for the DCI and the little girl that is currently playing with the button on his waistcoat. It is the same smile that will always make Greg’s heart skip a beat and increases the impulse to kiss the auburn, especially on how Mycroft handling the little girl on his chest. The little girl is currently unbuttoning the waistcoat of her daddy, finding each button too pretty then go to play with the chain of the pocket watch. Mycroft should have taken off his jacket and waistcoat first earlier.

“Dada snuggling. Emi here,” she is not very talkative when she is tired or just woke up from a sleep, or when she is pouty, “Shhh baby muffin just close your eyes will you?” Greg purrs and knows his dark and deep voice will bring her back to sleep. It is as easy as stressing sometimes. There’s a little shake of head from the little girl while Mycroft is stroking her hair. The same brown hair with little curls or more of a wave, just like Greg’s when he was young. If someone saw Emily they will not question it that Greg was her father.

“How about a warmth milk for Emily then all of us move to bed? It really is already late and you have kindergarten tomorrow.” Mycroft says, still stroking the brown hair while his other hand is rubbing her back. It is always hard to convince the little girl to sleep, she is very stubborn despite her body already all tired and sleepy. It is not a surprise that sometimes she just fall asleep in kindergarten because she needs some nap time. The teacher already complained about it so right now Mycroft and Greg try very hard to make Emily sleep on time. 

“I’m not very tired gorgeous,” Greg grins cheeky and wiggles his eyebrows but gestured for the younger man to move up slowly so he can do the same and hand Mycroft the little bean, “Move up with her, I will prepare the milk okay,” he says and kisses Mycroft quickly and in all gentleness. 

 

Emily whines at first when she was moved but once she is in the politician’s arms, she happily snuggles close with little small baby noises and rubs her face against the auburn’s chest then suckle her thumb. Mycroft happily holds her protectively, rubbing her back, before he makes his way upstairs to the pink room, Emily’s bedroom. Not forgetting the little bean’s plushie, God knows that she won’t be able to sleep without it or at least all cranky if she woke up without it by her side.

Greg makes his way to the kitchen and puts some milk onto the cooker and warmed it slowly before he grabs a feeding bottle with a duck on it and filled everything in, checking the temperature on his wrist. Both men know they should stop Emily using the feeding bottle, but sometimes they indulge her, especially when she is in this kind of state. All cranky and baby. Greg would never admit it but he is just as much a mother hen as Mycroft when it comes to their daughter. Obviously. But right now it is too late for the little one, besides that, Greg truly wants to have his hands back on that perky butt of Mycroft. After all, the working days of the politician are brutal long. It feels like months that the DCI has some alone time with his man. Right now he just desperately needs it.

He moves upstairs with the feeding bottle to find Mycroft and Emily in her pink room, listening to a lullaby from Mycroft, but just a hum, not a true song. The little girl is being rocked by Mycroft on his arms and can be seen trying to fight her heavy eyes. She still wants to be awake, wants to play around a bit with her Daddy M, she misses him.

 

“Already asleep again? Is this bottle for me now?” Greg asks with a cheeky puppy grin and sucks for once at the bottle before he approaches the small bed.

“The bottle is for Emily still,” Mycroft chuckles quietly before he gently lays Emily down on the bed, kissing her forehead when he heard the small whine. She hates to lose the softness and warmth, “It will help her to go back to sleep.” With that Greg sits down next to his partner and nudges the dummy into their daughter’s pouty mouth. Quickly the little girl holds the bottle on her own while Mycroft is rubbing her belly, trying to bring her back to sleep. It is one of the most domestic sights that anyone can see from the British Government. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his partner sitting behind him, arm holding his waist, while both watching their daughter falls asleep. 

 

It was hard work for both, no, for all three at first to have Mycroft to be so relaxed around them like this. But, Emily was able to break his heart within seconds of meeting each other while Greg needed some years to get into behind all those masks during the first years of their relationship. At least completely. Greg smoothes his thumb over the soft skin between her eyes and made it impossible for her to stay awake. Her brown eyes opened and closed but they are simply too heavy and soon, her lips stopped to suck on the rubber dummy of the feeding bottle and she slurps a bit before she rolls to her side and snuggles to another duck plushie in her bed, “I wish I could sleep so easy after a bottle of milk.” Greg jokes, knowing very well he can.

“I can make another bottle for you if you want.” Mycroft offers, teasing his partner before he moves the bottle away to the bedside table so it won’t make a mess on their daughter, then pulls the blanket to cover her more. And the DCI moves closer and places a kiss to Mycroft’s nape, “No thank you I’m not the milk type but I can suck on something else if you are not too tired and the result is...oh a surprise, also white.” This is a low joke but it works mostly with Mycroft. It effectively sends shivers down the politician’s spine and he can’t help close his eyes a bit and lets out a quiet sigh.

“So, how about we go into our bedroom now huh? The day was long enough.” It is that sinful voice again, whispering right to Mycroft’s ears. Mycroft never knows he can be so weak because of a voice but here he is, giving in to temptation because how sinful Greg’s voice can be. All rough and deep.

“I was planning to have a bath, perhaps I should skip that and just join you in bed?” Mycroft asks, looking back at his partner who has this  _ look _ , that the politician can easily translate into want and lust. It seems there is some changes in his plan for the night. A light tug on the 5.000 pound tie is enough of an answer to the question and Greg steps out of the room with Mycroft, walking backward, “We skip the bath and you let me rip another suit from you just because I love when you say ‘Gregory’ like I would have done something wrong but there is a wave in your voice like your knees are getting weak.” and button by button by button, the waistcoat opened and felt to the floor shortly before they enter the master bedroom, old English oak all over but classy. 

 

Mycroft already giving a disapproving look at the older man as he drops his waistcoat on the floor, “Honestly, Gregory you are a mess.” He tuts but his own hand already goes to the green jumper ready to pull it off from the inspector, “And no you are not ripping another suit.” This time the wording is almost like a challenge for the older man and you can see the little sparkle on the brown eyes. The silver fox can't care less and kicks the door of the master bedroom open with his butt before two strong hands grabbed automatically the cotton white shirt of Mycroft and pulled it apart. The sound of ripping was all over the place and truly expensive fabric rips so well. There is gasp and a ‘Gregory’ but the older man ignores it.

 

“Excuse me what did you say?” the DCI asks cheekily and exposes milky white skin, showered with freckles all over the man he loved since years since he can remember. Greg starts to kiss the chest slowly yet so eager, starting from the collarbone down to a nipple back up while stepping backward step by step till his claves hit the bed. Maybe he will get into trouble for the suit. Again. But damn this was worth it. Especially when he can hear small gasps and moans that come out from Mycroft’s mouth. The younger man is always trying to restrain himself when Greg touches him, but the inspector knows he just needs to push few buttons before the politician chirps like a bird.

 

Which is the damn case every time. Greg turns the position of both and almost pushes the well-collected politician to the bed, to a sitting position but enough that he needs to lay back, “Would never rip your trousers.” Greg promises, chuckling a bit while biting his lower lip then drops to his knees, opens the single button of Mycroft's trousers and lowers the zipper before he tugs them off from the beloved body and let his fingers dance along the waistband of some “Jockstrap? You are wearing this the whole day and never send me a photo? Rude.”

The politician is now blushing furiously when Greg pulled down his trousers. The older man wonders why didn’t he feel or deduce about this earlier when he was kneading Mycroft’s butt. Since Greg became Mycroft’s partner, the auburn-haired man with a touch of red, explored some more kinks he had, no idea he would have, one of them is wearing the jockstrap. The one that he is currently wearing is an anniversary gift by the inspector himself.

 

“Taking this off or you want to turn so I can have my dinner like that?” Greg asks, pulling the trousers completely off from the long pale legs while Mycroft is still blushing. Another thing that turns the auburn on, Greg being vulgar and dirty talking.

 

“I need your answer, Gorgeous..” The older man purrs, already can’t wait to taste his  _ dinner _ while his palm slowly rubbing the bulge that is trapped by the jockstrap. Another moan escapes Mycroft’s mouth follows with a buck of his hips. A quick look at his partner’s face and Greg can tell that what kind of answer this was, “Turn my lovely bird. I want to tug at that jockstrap before I spread your more than perfect buttocks and start to lap over you lovely male gap till you squeak and then….” Greg stops the well-chosen explanation of what he will do to help Mycroft turning around, on all fourth, back bowed, butt perfectly on display. Dear God it was a sign to see the man like this. Dominant in the job. So submissive in private, “..I help you with the utterly itching feeling along your inner walls.” Mycroft can hear a zip behind him. Greg definitely lowers his jeans but just to massage the bulge in his perfect black CK pants. Before his mind can deduce more, Mycroft feels two strong thumbs on either side of his hole and in between a warm and very possessive tongue that grazed the fluttering pucker as it will mark him. 

  
The first moan that comes out is louder than before but Mycroft quickly bites down his lower lip, trying to quiet himself. His fingers is holding the sheet under him while his legs spread a bit to give more space for Greg. It is a simple move that Greg knows very well what it means. Something more the politician and it is the DCI pleasured to give more. And Greg was willing to give everything what Mycroft ever desire. 

“My lovely boy. Responsive as always. I’m more than surprised you didn’t play with a plug while you are in the office and came back to me all prepared and juicy.” Greg goes without further ado back to Mycroft’s opening and circles the tight ring around the fluttering pucker before he spiraled in. Moaning at the sweet taste of his man and literally eats him out. His own cock pressed against his tented boxers and Greg reached with his right hand down to give himself a squeeze because Mycroft’s bowed back was enough to have a wonderful access to the price he is literally devouring underlines with low moans.

 

Mycroft moves to bury his face to the pillow as Greg eats him out. There are muffled moans and groans when the older man continues to breach his hole, stretching him with the tongue. It is hard to stay still especially the more Greg rims him the more his hips move a bit, grinding against said tongue, almost trying to fuck himself to it. There is already a patch of wetness on the front of his jockstrap and the politician reaches out to give himself a squeeze. He needs some relief and the jockstrap is too tight, trapping his cock in. “Usually you had your third ‘please’ on your lips at this time. I am that bad today?” Greg grins with his plum wet lips after he pulled his tongue out and lapped just gently over the fluttering opening, chirping the sweetest words when he watches how eager Mycroft becomes. The older man knows that the auburn is muffling himself with the pillow, he knows that Mycroft is losing self-control.

The politician needs some time to get verbal, but god he can be so dirty when he wants to. Usually, this starts when the DCI had enough from the ‘light number’ and starts to finally fuck Mycroft properly. And after what felt like a damn eternity, Greg finally pulls back and Mycroft can hear the rustle of fabric behind him. The auburn is already breathing heavily, his hole is wet and covered with saliva. The cold air of the room sends shivers to his spine and makes him realize how empty he is and Greg can see how the hole is just fluttering slowly, opening up then closing again for few times as if inviting Greg to fill him up. And the silver fox is happy to say yes to this invitation. Smoothing his thumb over the pink pucker to keep the skin smooth. The smear of the wetness, taking his time. 

 

“G-Gregory…” The word comes out as a pant from the politician’s mouth. The man that never stutter when conducting himself in front of the world’s leader now is stuttering as he calls out his partner’s name because the older man is taking his time admiring the view before him. Freckled back like the galaxy, black jockstrap against such pale skin that shows the perfect round globe. Greg just wishes he can take pictures of his partner like this. “Damn perfect you are, boy.” He chirps and kneads Mycroft’s buttocks gently before he shuffles closer and, as always, starts to tease. Rubbing the tip of his cock against the hole. Just grazing the hole slowly, never entering.

The younger man moans, although at some point when Greg’s tip graze his hole again for god’s know how many time, the sounds turn almost into a whine followed with a desperate ‘Gregory’ and a push of the hips back. “Just.. get inside me,” Mycroft looks back at his partner who is kneeling behind him, still enjoying the slow teasing, “Please.”

“I fucking love when you call me Gregory.” the older man chuckles and smoothes his cock down again and again over the slowly swollen arselips before he leans in and finally pushed slowly into Mycroft, in his love, in his all. “F-Fuck…” he growls and stills when he feels the tight ring of muscles latching around him as he enters bit by bit by bit. 

 

It is always like that. Slow, gently, domestic, dirty and voluptuous. An act of love and desire. Mycroft is moaning under Greg, no matter how many times he already takes Greg in him, the man still feels big. He can feel slowly being stretched and filled. Mycroft is trying to stay still as Greg enters him, he tries to relax around the thick shaft but his hole just easily tightened around Greg and sucking him. It is one part that Greg loves to teach about the younger man being patient, he is always so eager to have him buried deep inside. And the DCI always gives Mycroft the time to adjust. Hand on his coccyx and with some steady movements, Greg starts to fuck Mycroft in earnest. Ignores the loud whines halfway through it. Ignores the rant when Mycroft called him a tease and sometimes even a bastard. That doesn’t count. Only the connection between the two and the lust that the two bodies need and want.

Just like that, one moment Mycroft is whining and pleading for Greg to finally move and fuck him and the next moment that younger man can only moan because of the thrust into his hole and how the DCI holds his hips down. It is rough and fast, something that Mycroft loves but in some moment it just slow and Greg trying to thrust right against the prostate to make Mycroft sees stars. Greg knows the body under him very well. When Mycroft stills and bowed his back in a perfect c curve, he knew he hits the right spot and obviously he reaches around to check the condition of the meanwhile very wet jockstrap, lips close to the politician’s ear, gasping sound dragged to his senses which are meanwhile only halfway present, “Right there? Just my cocktip against that bundle of nerves and you start to leak that much…” he growls and pulls out, then thrusts back in. Hard and with a brutal accuracy he hits Mycroft’s gland over and over till his own lungs filled with so much air it almost hurts him. 

Every muscle in that body tensed slowly, Greg feels his climax slowly building in his groin and leans down to lick a wet stripe along Mycroft’s neck and spine, tasting salt and sweat and musk. “G-God you feel like heaven. Won’t ...Won’t survive this…” he whines desperately as he continues to fuck his partner. His other hand slides inside the jockstrap and gives the leaking cock the extra stimulation. Mycroft is a moaning mess now, thrusting his hips back and down so he can thrust his cock into Greg's hand, “C-Close..” The warning comes out between all the panting and it encourages Greg to move faster, tip continues to hit the prostate gland. It doesn’t take long to have two set of voice, moaning out loud as their climaxes hit. Mycroft arches his back and has his hole tightens and sucks Greg’s cock while the older man thrust his cock as deep as he can, coming inside his partner. Spunk covered the inner walls and behind closed lids, Greg sees starts, lights dancing around and he starts to shiver so hard he might die spontaneously. “C-Christ ...oh…..damn, Holmes…” he manages before he finally exhaled the air in his lungs and collapses on Mycroft’s back, holding himself a bit up because Greg is obviously heavier than Mycroft. 

 

The politician feels the warm breath of his man on his nape, steady and so calming. The two stay in that position for a few moments, although Mycroft already flops down on his front, before Greg finally pulls out much to Mycroft’s disappointment. There’s trickle of spunk that follows suit but the younger man’s hole is trying to hold everything inside. Greg is very tempted to go down on his partner and licks the hole again, just to taste. But at the sight of his tired partner, he decides to do it next time because right now the politician is lying on his front all tired.

“I’ll catch some wet towel, just stay there.” The only response that Greg gets is just a hum of acknowledgment and it just makes the inspector chuckles quietly. The man goes to their en-suite bathroom, cleaning himself with a wet towel then takes a new one, wet it with warm water before he returns to the bed only to find that Mycroft is already dozing off not caring that he is still wearing the ruined jockstrap.

“Asleep. Again.” Greg chuckles and moved closer, kneeling on the bed, taking off the jockstraps and then cleans Mycroft gently, before he throws both the towel and jockstrap to the floor and spoons the younger man, sliding the tip of his nose along the nape and states a cheeky, “Will clean you completely in the morning.” to the sleeping powerful man and soon follows suit to the dreamland.

**Author's Note:**

> we are back with a new story for this series!
> 
> Truth to be told this story should have been published last year during Christmas but oh well we were too busy and we just had the time to finish the story this week! So here it is! A smut to welcome you guys to our story. Hope all of you enjoy this story. Leave kudos and comment so we can know what you think.
> 
> with love,  
> matomato & OhFuckMystrade


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